Healing
by Andorra97
Summary: At one of Lady Grantham's garden parties in summer 1922 Tom Branson makes a startling and unwelcome discovery. How will he deal with it and can Matthew help him? Spoilers for season 3. Rating is T for just one little section, but I thought better safe than sorry.


_Third season is over and I have to do something about my intense DA withdrawal. I hope you won't throw rotton tomatoes at me after reading this little story, for even doing a minor step in that direction, but Tom being all alone is such a horrible thought, that I need at least one little glimpse of hope that he'll be okay one day in the future._

_As usual characters are not mine. _

**Healing**

Tom stood next to Matthew at the side of the lawn, a glass of wine in his hand, watching the guests of Lady Grantham's annual garden party strolling around. All of them seemed happy in conversation and Matthew was also just saying something to him, when it happened.

With one single look he took in her appearance, eyes, skin, smile... her hair as it curled over her brows, her figure in a pale blue dress...

Suddenly there was this tingle. A short moment when the blood shot in his veins with more force than before. He knew it from a time long gone and he hadn't felt it for an eternity. But that didn't mean he wouldn't recognize it.

For a second his body went rigid in shock, his eyes wide, his face stony. And then he turned on his heels and went away, as fast as he could without running, leaving Matthew talking to the now empty space next to him and blinking in surprise.

"Tom?"

Finally out of sight Tom leaned his head against a tree feeling sick. The lump in his throat got so big he couldn't breathe any more and he desperately tugged on his tie to losen it and get some air.

"Bastard", he groaned. "You Bastard!"

Suddenly the lump broke and he cried. He hadn't cried for at least a year. He had assumed there were no tears left after the first months after Sybil's death, but it seemed that had been a mistake, because now he cried so hard he couldn't stop any more.

He sank down, his back to the tree and burying his head in his hands.

"Sybil... Oh Sybil!"

"Tom?" There was a hand on his shoulder. Matthew of course. "Oh Tom, poor chap, what happened?"

It took a while before his sobs allowed him to speak.

"I noticed her, Matthew."

Matthew sat next to him and shook his head in confusion. "What?"

Tom sighed. Suddenly the crying had stopped just as fast as it had begun. "I noticed a woman, Matthew. I just saw her over there and I found her lovely."

"And?"

He really was trying, Tom knew, but how could he ever understand? How could he know how Tom felt since Sybil was gone?

Numb, in pain, ice-cold. His life had been shattered the day Sybil died, thrown into pieces and there was no turning back.

They had all tried. All had been nice to him. Even Lord Grantham was trying to be supportive after Tom started his job as his agent. After all the family was grief stricken, too an there was his little daughter to think of.

She was the only reason that kept him going, anyway For her he was determined to find his way back to life, but so far it had been barely an existence. Breathing in and out the whole day, and desperately trying to keep his mind away from the pain somehow.

He craved the nights. Strangely there were no bad dreams haunting him. He almost never dreamed about the horrid events that took his wife from him for ever. No, during the nights she was still there. He could hear her voice. He still knew the special tone she had in her voice when she said his name. In his dreams she was all over him. Her hands on his skin, her lips soft under his as they had been almost every night since they married. He felt warm and safe and loved and he awoke from these dreams sighing and panting and painfully aroused. But he didn't do anything about it. It only added to the pain during the days and he was used to enduring pain now.

Tom became aware that Matthew still waited for an explanation. He sighed.

"I haven't even noticed a woman since Sybil."

"But Tom...", Matthew didn't know how to say it. "Chap, you're a man and just barely over 30. Don't you think it's pretty normal that you... I mean, you're healthy and it is just natural!"

"No", Tom said fiercely. "I don't want it. I could never.. I mean I really _couldn't_!" He shook his head. "That's done. "

"Tom, come on."

"No really, Matthew. I mean it. There's just no way that I would ever be able to fall in love again. Let alone..._ never_!" He literally shuddered at the thought.

Matthew sighed. "I know how much you loved Sybil, Tom. Everyone here knows that. But it's two years now. You're still a young man. You still can build another life. And that doesn't mean you should forget about her."

Tom felt another wave of tears coming. He blinked them back, breathing hard to keep his voice steady. "I could never forget her", he whispered. "I loved her so much."

Matthew shook his head. "See? I don't believe you could. She will always be with you. But it won't be as painful a memory as it is now. Hopefully it won't be, because you can't keep going on like that forever."

"There's no woman like her anyway", Tom said stubbornly. "And I won't settle for second best."

"You don't have to. You don't have to do_ anything_, chap. Just be gentle with yourself. It really doesn't mean anything at all if you see a woman and like her appearance."

Tom sighed. "You're probably right."

"I am always right", Matthew smiled. "It's a bad habit."

He stood and shook the grass from his trousers. "Now come back to the party, will you?"

Tom reluctantly stood up, too. "I guess."

As they went back to the people on the lawn, Mary came towards them.

"Tom, Matthew, meet my friend Angela Linney, please. Angela, this is my husband Matthew and my brother in law, Tom Branson."

"Pleased to meet you", Tom said with a firm voice as he again looked at her. She really was pretty. Dark hair, brown soft eyes with long lashes and beautiful skin. But when she too greeted him and said something to Mary and Matthew he felt a weight lift from his heart.

She was nice, yes. Pretty too, but nothing more.

Suddenly he felt better. Another piece falling back into place, probably. Maybe Matthew was right. No need to overreact. It didn't mean anything that he started to take in his surroundings a bit more. It was two years now, since he had lost Sybil. He still loved her, he still remembered everything about her and he was sure he would for the rest of his life. And he wasn't ready to fall in love again. Maybe he never would be.

But maybe and very slowly his heart at least had begun its healing.


End file.
